


Green

by Tinevisce



Series: V.I.B.G.Y.O.R [3]
Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23486704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinevisce/pseuds/Tinevisce
Summary: He will take the crushing weight of the love he bears for this amazing person in his arms and he will use it ground love and laughter into their lives. This will be the surging gravity that will shape their Kailash, mould their Vaikuntha
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Series: V.I.B.G.Y.O.R [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686157
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Green

**Author's Note:**

> See, told you it wouldn't all be doom and gloom! Continues off from where we left our heroes in Indigo.

Kartik was startled awake the next morning by the sound of someone making a hideous racket with the deadbolt on their front door.

He panicked when he realised, he was the only one in bed. “Aman!”

“I’m here, relax,” the man in question replied from the other side of the door, voice slightly muffled by the thick wood. He struggled a second more with the bolt then threw the door open with a cry of triumph.

“Where did you go?” Kartik’s heart was still hammering and his voice came out panic bright.

Aman held up a greasy, blue polythene bag. “Breakfast. I got us _chole-bhature_ , I’ve been craving them for a few days”

He walked over to the tiny battered table which passed as their dining area and carefully set down the food while trying not to get the grease everywhere. He turned back to Kartik, who had collapsed back into his pillow and gave him a small smile. “ _Bohot_ cute _lag raha tha tu neend mein_ , didn’t want to wake you up. Sorry for worrying you.”

Kartik sat up straighter and stretched out a regal arm to beckon him closer; a King imperiously issuing a Royal Summons. Aman reluctantly resigned himself to re-heating the food later, vowing to make Kartik wash the extra dishes that that would result in.

He trudged back to the bed and precariously arranged himself on it facing Kartik, one knee drawn up while the other leg dangling over the edge. You don’t wilfully ignore a Summons, even if the only thing this King was Lord of was just his heart.

Kartik’s touch was careful as his fingers carded through Aman’s hair and rubbed the backs of his ear before slowly trailing down to rest on his lower back. His voice was gentle, like he was trying not to scare off a frightened animal. “How are you feeling? Did you get any sleep?”

Wasn’t that the question of the day? Aman felt dangerously off-balance still, some unholy cocktail of strength and fury and panic and love that made him feel torching the rest of the world or screaming from rooftops or…just dissolve into tears every time Kartik’s bright eyes looked at him the way he was right now.

Well, he had always been a big proponent of faking it till you made it, so he took particular care to sound steady, in-control. “Better, I’m feeling much better now. I slept a little, I think, for an hour or two after- after you woke me up. I woke up again sometime around 7:30, I think.”

He saw Kartik notice the fresh dressing on his head wound (he had been up anyway and had figured he may as well get it over with for the day), saw his face darken with grief and guilt. “I’m sorry I made you go through all of this. I had never wanted make you choose between-”

“ _Made_ me choose? Kartik, do you remember how we first met?”

Of course, _of course_ , Kartik remembers. He had been trying to smuggle a couple, Fatima and Pallavi, out of the country and had needed a diversion to draw both families out so the two women could sneak out to the airport; surprise, surprise: it seemed only a gay man could unite two violently communal Hindu-Muslim families in India. You know, against _him_.

He had run for life and limb from the assorted brothers, cousins and uncles through the cramped lanes of old Delhi and had crashed headlong into a hapless Aman with the momentum of a speeding freight train.

The mob (to this day, Aman maintained it _wasn’t_ a mob, thank you) had almost reached them and Aman had barely sat up, _what the hell_ , and Kartik had turned back and-

“Offered me your hand,” Aman eerily completed his thought, and then added his own gloss to the shared memory, “you were glorious”

Kartik frowned. “I was sweaty and disgusting”

“You were glorious,” Aman insisted, and then because the events of the past week and made him get over some of his natural reticence, he added, “I knew this is where I was heading when I reached out and took that hand”

He had run out of things to say for the moment and began to play with the hem of Kartik’s threadbare T shirt.

Kartik gulped as the riptide of love for this man threatened to completely overcome him and forced himself to speak. “That’s not- that’s not all I should be sorry for.

“ _Mujhe pata hai_ you worry a lot about me, _ye sab logon ko bhagaana_ , putting myself at risk. I took your support for granted, _mujhe- mujhe sochna chahiye tha_ about what all that worry was doing to you. I promise I’ll be- better”

Aman’s eyes snapped up to meet his, and the fearsome weight of the resolve Kartik saw in those dark eyes came close to blasting rational thought from his head altogether. “ _Apne aap ko badalnaa agar itnaa aasaan hota toh mai ab tak koi_ Kusum _se shaadi nahi kar liya hota_?

I won't let you be less than what you are, Kartik. I meant what I said to Papa that day, _kisiko agar tera khoon bahaanaa hai toh mere khoon se pehle rangna hoga unko_ ”

Aman let himself be pulled and manhandled so Kartik’s arms were cradling him impossibly close, his heart beating against Aman’s ears.

“My baby _strongest_ ”

Kartik has never been one to run away from love. A bleeding-heart romantic fool he has always been. Aman is right; he won’t be less than what he is for anyone. He will take the crushing weight of the love he bears for this amazing person in his arms and he will use it ground love and laughter into their lives. This will be the surging gravity that will shape their _Kailash,_ mould their _Vaikuntha_

**Author's Note:**

> While I didn't initially conceive it quite in this way; in my head, the stories seem to be continuing off of the showdown at the Tripathi house. If Indigo had our boys grappling with the storm they had been through in Red, Green is about them starting to emerge stronger at the other side of the tunnel. I associate green with fertility and the promise of stability and permanence. Picture lush forests, essentially, and rolling green hills.


End file.
